


Mission: Seduce the Leather Clad Beef Cake

by Tildabeans



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Digg helps Felicity make Oliver jealous, Digg is so done with their shit, F/M, Felicity is a headstrong determined woman who just wants her man, Fluff and Crack, I refuse to accept Moira Queen is gone, Jealous!Oliver, Long live the Queen, Oliver doesn't know what's going on, Slight Canon Divergence, Slight OOC, and Thea likes everyone, because when does she have time to meet new people?, it's my world and I do what I want, scheming!Felicity, so for the sake of this story - she's alive and bugging Oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tildabeans/pseuds/Tildabeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That time when Felicity's four Phase plan involved an unfortunate Digg, a super-awkward kiss, a sleep-deprived Oliver, and too much time spent watching porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission: Seduce the Leather Clad Beef Cake

**Author's Note:**

> This whole mess started when I had the uncontrollable craving for a dose of jealous!Oliver, scheming!Felicity, and Diggle just being done with everyone. Then it spiraled out of control and become an almost 30 page story about the most roundabout way to tell someone you like them. My advice, don't do what Felicity does. We (unfortunately) don't live in the world of fanfiction, and life is rarely so accommodating. Stick through until the end, and I promise a laugh or two. 
> 
> Warning for slight OOC - but not much. It's harmless fluff and crack. If I could write smut, I would have given this a very different ending. 
> 
> I own nothing related to Arrow, sadly. If I did, we would be watching a very different show (see: all about Amell's abs). There would be much more nakedness and virtually no character death. 
> 
> Be gentle with me; it's my first (posted) Arrow fic.

Felicity Smoak is a woman with a plan. She knows what she wants and she knows just how far she’s willing to go to get it - which is just about limitless.

 

And Felicity wanted Oliver Queen’s rocking bod on hers with a fiery passion. She might like him for more than his body, but at this particular moment, she wanted nothing more than something physical. Mind-blowing, earth-shattering, time-stopping, most likely highly acrobatic sex.

 

She had the best plans. No one was ever able to contest with the fact that her plans got shit done, and they got it done well. Which is why Oliver let her plan his missions, his days at QC, and basically his life - the bits that were prone to organization. Not the bits that were covered in leather and fought crime in the dead of night, because no one could control that.

 

He trusted her to keep his life moving in a productive and eloquent fashion, and she’d be damned if she didn’t deliver.

 

So when she watched Oliver workout shirtless one too many times, it was decided that she needed a plan for this too. Because she was going to get into Oliver Queen’s pants and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

 

Okay, Oliver could say no, but she would give him a damn good argument. It would be very hard to say no.

 

The two of them had been dancing around each other for almost three years at this point. He would open up, tell her something personal, she would feel herself start to fall for him, and he would sleep with a vindictive Russian mistress bent on corporate espionage.

 

He would tell her something personal, she would start the fall, and then one of his innumerable ex-girlfriends come in to town, effectively cock-blocking her through violence (Helena) or being an awesome person (Sarah).

 

This happened more times than Felicity was comfortable with.

 

But this plan of hers would throw the whole cycle off the tracks. This time, he would be the one falling - hopefully onto her mattress. Or his. Or the training mats. Or hell, she’d take the goddamn floor at this point.

 

Her plan involved a slight risk, but she knew the reward would be worth it.

 

Felicity sat across from Digg one afternoon while Oliver was out patrolling. She muted the coms, and looked him dead in the eye, “Diggle, I need you to do me a favor.”

 

“Mmmm-Hmmmm.” He raised an eyebrow, his brawny arms braced on the table. Felicity sat across the desk, his body hidden by her wall of technology, her legs crossed and hands folded while she looked at him.

 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the sexual tension between Oliver and I, I mean, you’d have to be blind, deaf, and stupid to not be able to see it. I’m almost positive my mother - who lives in Maine - can see it.” Felicity pushed her glasses up her nose and kept eye contact with Digg, who looked mildly uncomfortable with the topic, but nodded anyway.

 

“Felicity, everyone notices.”

 

She tilted her head at him and smiled, “Exactly. So that’s why I’m going to need a small favor from you.”

 

“Oh hell.”

 

“I need you to date me to drive Oliver up a wall, because this damn dance we have going on isn’t helping things.” She sighed and rolled her chair a bit closer, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk.

 

Digg let out a huff (a slightly indignant one, if she was reading it right), and said, “Date you? Felicity, I am in a committed relationship.”

 

“Not really date me, just the whole,” she waved her hand around in front of her, “appearing to date me. Buy me flowers, wine, chocolates, kiss my cheek, hold my hand, court me. I’ll totally pay you back, I promise. I mean, I’ll even pick it out and then I’ll be all ‘Oh, Digg! These are my favorites! How did you know?’ and you can be all,” she lowered her voice to match his baritone pitch, “‘Cause I know you, baby.’ Or whatever you feel is right.”

 

He just kept looking at her. “Nothing about this feels right.”

 

Felicity stared back, eyes a bit pleading, “Please Digg, I know that if I just came right out and seduced him that he would be all,” she now imitated Oliver’s voice, “‘I can’t be with someone I care about.’” She snorted, “What bullshit. He can totally be with someone he cares about, hello - Sarah anyone? He’s just being a wuss.”

 

“So, let me get this straight. Instead of talking out your feelings like a normal couple, you want me to help you make our boss jealous - which we don’t even know he would be,” at her ‘hey!’ he just gave her a look, “We don’t know how he feels about you - I mean, I think he’s a bit hot under the collar for you, but I don’t know how jealous he would actually get. Though,” he paused thinking, “He did freak over Barry.”

 

She gave a triumphant grin, “See! My plans ALWAYS work.”

 

“What? Was Barry a plan too?”

 

“Oh, Digg, it’s sad how you don’t know the depth of my plotting.”

 

Digg gave her a frightened look.

 

She pat his hand comfortingly, “Don’t worry, I don’t usually plot your life - just Oliver’s.”

 

“Then why am I so paranoid?”

 

“Military training, Digg.”

 

He made another “mmmmhmmm” noise.

 

“So, John Diggle, do you wanna go steady with me?” Felicity wiggled her eyebrows and gave him a somewhat sultry look over her glasses.

 

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze unwavering, and just when she thought he was about to say no (to which she had another five arguments laid out, one of them being a blackmail attempt), he spoke. “I never got my class ring back from my high school girl. Will you settle for my gun holster?”

 

She laughed, clapped her hands together, and lunged across the desk to give him an awkward hug. “We’re gunna be the _cutest_ fake couple to ever pretend to get it on.”

 

“I need a raise.”

 

“Consider my bubbly company a bonus. So, here’s what we’re going to do.”

 

And she proceeded to lay out her plan to a grudging Digg, who, against his better judgement, felt that this just might work.

 

**Phase One: Initiate the Relationship (Or that time when Diggle’s flirting almost killed Oliver)**

 

The first phase of the plan was simple: Initiate the Relationship. (Later, Felicity would find it a tiny bit ironic that the first attempt at a romantic relationship with Oliver was treated like a mission.)

 

Felicity told Digg to lay the moves on her, and though he was hesitant and a bit weirded out by hitting on a girl he deemed sisterly, the reactions from Oliver made the whole thing worthwhile.

 

When Digg first made the offhanded, “ _Damn_ , Felicity, you look great today!” and gave her a slow whistle and an approving once over, Oliver did a double take at Digg, his blue eyes bugging out of his head, and something like repulsion/confusion/horror crossing his face.  

 

Digg ignored him and kept working on the gun drawer, pretending he didn’t see the flush on Felicity’s neck (hey, even if she knew it was coming - it was still nice to be told she looked good) and the flabbergasted expression on his boss’ face.

 

The rest of the night was littered with comments like the first, a never ending chain of flattery from Digg. Really makes a girl feel loved, even if she did convince him to help her.

 

When she talked about high school, he made a crack about her being a “hot nerd girl”, to which he got a weird look from Felicity (who was most definitely not a hot nerd girl in high school) and another double take from Oliver.

 

When she offhandedly mentioned her new heels that were killing her feet, Digg offered to rub them for her, saying that even if they hurt, they made her legs look fantastic. Oliver nearly tumbled off his stool where he sat sharpening arrows.

 

And the time that she needed help getting something off a high shelf, Digg reached over and bodily lifted her away from the wire shelves to reach it for her, making a crack about how slim her waist was. Felicity quipped back that he was so strong, giving him flirtatious look while she spoke. This time, Oliver slipped from his position on the ceiling (some sort of upside down crunches?), the foot braces she made him install for situations just like this catching him from plummeting to certain death. He swung back and forth slightly, giving them that look of abject horror he wore earlier.

 

Digg was the most obnoxious kind of flirt, simply because she told him nothing was off limits - that the more forward and outrageous he was, the better reactions he would get.

 

After Oliver finished with his training sequence, Digg leaned over Felicity, who was manning her station, moved in close and whispered, “I feel really guilty about the legs comment. If my mother was here, she would smack me on the ear with a wooden spoon.”

 

Felicity let out a giggle at that, and Oliver smacked the dummy so hard that the stick ricocheted off the post and smacked the side of his freakishly handsome head. That left a smile on her face for the next two hours, while Oliver’s was sporting a very distinct bruise. Digg continued to hover around her desk, leaning on the edge and touching her constantly.

 

It was strange for Diggle to be touching her all the time, and his constant attention would have unnerved her, if not for the fact that she pretty much hassled him into helping with her mission.

 

As Felicity was packing her bag, enjoying pleasure from a plot well started, she overheard Oliver talking to Digg, his exasperated tone carrying through the concrete basement and over to where she was shoving tablets, blueprints, bags of wires, and screws into her shoulder bag.

 

“Diggle,” he started, his tone trying for calm, “what are you doing?”

 

She could almost see the smirk on Digg’s face but didn’t want to turn to check and tip them off, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. You got to be more specific.”

 

Oliver grumbled and she heard him move closer, “Digg, the comments. You’re with Lyla. What are you doing?”

 

“She looked damn good in those heels, Oliver. I couldn’t not say anything. And Lyla is...Lyla; we’re off again.” The liar.

 

“Dig, she’s worn shoes like that before, and you’ve never done anything like this.” Oliver tried again, “Seriously, what are you doing?”

 

Digg gave Oliver a chuckle, probably thinking ‘ _You poor bastard, you’ll never see it coming_ ’. “I don’t know, man, I think I’ve got a thing for her. I’m gunna ask her out.”

 

Oliver made some sort of spluttering noise, “ _What_?”

 

He really liked that word today, she thought, standing up and slinging the bag over her shoulder, he should really branch out. Oliver hadn’t said ‘ _inconceivable_ ’ yet, but there was still time. However, Felicity might be a bit insulted if he said that in response to someone claiming to want to date her.

 

“Yeah, man. I’m going to ask her out. Is that cool with you?” Without waiting for an answer, he clapped Oliver on the shoulder and walked toward Felicity. “Thanks! Hey, Felicity, let me walk you to your car.”

 

“Thanks Digg, that would be great! Night, Oliver!” She called over her shoulder as Digg placed his hand at the base of her spine (right where Oliver always placed his, she thought happily), and guided her up the stairs. She let out another giggle for the sake of driving the point home and let Digg lead the way.

 

Oliver didn’t respond and soon they were out the door and on the street next to Felicity's car.

 

“You did great, Digg!”

 

“I feel dirty. You’ve soiled my good reputation of not dating co-workers.”

 

“You married your army buddy!”

 

Digg glared at her, “Different circumstances.”

 

She gave him a look, “Sure.”

 

He sighed and pushed her lightly towards her car, “Goodnight, Felicity.”

 

“Night, sugar-lumps. You’ll be in my dreams.” She made kissy faces at him.

 

Digg grinned back.

 

**Phase Two: Let’s Go to The Mall (Or that time Felicity made a bunny named Herschel)**

 

The second phase was also pretty straightforward. Digg spent the whole week shamelessly flirting with her; making constant remarks, whistling, and giving her glances.

 

In all honesty, she thought he was getting a bit into it; Oliver's misery giving him steam. And she really was enjoying the self-esteem boost.

 

Felicity jokingly told Digg that he could continue giving her praise, because the last time she received this much attention was when Mark Lukanza tried to seduce her in their sophomore year of college.

 

Digg laughed at her and replied that he would always give her praise, only it wouldn’t be so lascivious and skeevy.

 

After the first week, Oliver’s reactions deescalated to the point that they were non-existent, save for the occasional eye twitch and tightening around his mouth. Digg told her that Oliver hadn’t tried to continue their conversation, probably thinking it was not his business, that whatever _this_ was between Digg and Felicity, it would work itself out.

 

And honestly, she kind of respected him for letting her and Digg have a “relationship”, however fake it was.

 

Even if he didn’t say anything, Oliver’s brooding got worse. The number of times she walked into the lair while it was encased in darkness increased ten fold. She no longer shrieked when she turned on the light to see Oliver slumped in her chair.

 

He was quieter around her and Digg, lips pressed tight and eyebrows furrowed unhappily.

 

But he still didn’t say anything to them.

 

This was the moment she began Phase Two: Let’s Go To The Mall. The scoffing noise Digg made when she told him the code name made her shush him.

 

“Excuse you, that is a perfectly good code name. Nothing says early romance like mall pretzels and _Build-a-Bear_ , Digg.”

 

He groaned and followed her into the mall. “Yeah, if you’re in high school. I haven’t been to a mall in about five years. I would willingly go back to a war-zone before stepping into a food court.”

 

“Wuss. You help Oliver fight crime on a daily basis, and you’re afraid of some moody teenagers in a food court?”

 

“Those teenagers can be deadly. Don’t you watch the news?”

 

“Seriously? When do I have time to watch the news? I’m too busy with my two jobs, sleeping, and trying to trick my boss into sleeping with me to actually watch the news. Get with the program, Digg. Bigger problems here.”

 

He chuckled and followed her through the entrance, groaning when he saw the gaggles of preteens and adolescents.

 

If Felicity was being honest, she just really wanted to make a _Build-a-Bear_ , though she did plan on keeping it on her desk so Oliver would have to make eye contact with her new BFF. The goal was to kill him with cute, make him so infuriated with the cheesiness of their relationship that he would snap and sweep her off her feet.

 

Though, she doubted he would do that to Digg. For all of Oliver’s faults, he was loyal until the end of the line. Oliver would never make a move on a girl that he thought Digg liked, even if it was ruining Oliver’s life.

 

Digg and Felicity ended up having a good time at the mall. It was decidedly un-date like, being as she paid for herself when they went to _Build-a-Bear_. Though he did buy her a pretzel and an Orange Julius; he drew the line at spending fifty bucks on a bunny in a cheap suit.

 

She made fun of him for being a suit snob, and he told her it was gift that he could recognize fine stitching.

 

They stopped outside of Mrs. Fields cookies, Felicity making a crack about getting Oliver a cookie cake in the form of a volleyball named Wilson. But Digg shook his head and told her it was too soon.

 

Once they were back in the lair, Felicity proudly displayed her new purchase, a floppy eared rabbit named Herschel Hermes II, dressed to the nines in his best suit. He was one damn fine rabbit, if Felicity had a say. Herschel looked almost as good as Oliver in a suit. Almost.

 

Felicity and Digg were working quietly when Oliver came back from skulking the streets, his masked gaze immediately finding Herschel propped up proudly against her computers. His fluffy white fur a direct contrast to the rest of the sleek and modern homebase. “What is that?” Oliver halted in his tracks, his eyes fixed wearily on the rabbit.

 

She turned to look at Oliver, shooting him a confused look before turning back to her new buddy, “It’s a rabbit…?” She lifted an ear on Herschel and looked back at Oliver, “I know you were gone a while, but they definitely had these before you went all _Cast Away_ on us.” She cringed, two _Cast Away_ references in one day, she needed to branch out.

 

“Why is it wearing a suit?”

 

“Because he’s a very important rabbit.”

 

Digg let out a snort from behind her, “We went to the mall today, and ‘Flis got herself a new friend.” He sent her a wink, intending for Oliver to catch the horrible new nickname they decided she needed today. Because nothing would drive the point home that they were in a “relationship” like a horrible nickname. Felicity was planning on calling him Diggy or Diggums. She couldn’t decide.

 

Oliver stiffened slightly and gave an affirmative noise, before moving around the desk and away from Felicity and Hershel. Pulling the hood off and placing his quiver and bow back in their proper place.

 

Oliver moved with a practiced calm, his movements too smooth and controlled to be natural. After the top of his gear was removed, he turned toward the en-suite bathroom and walked away, his shoulders bunched with tension, purposely avoiding looking at the stuffed rabbit on her desk.

 

Felicity pumped her fist in the air for a mission well done, and Digg shook his head. “You’re going to give him an aneurysm, and then how are you going to sleep with him?”

 

Phase Two continued on for another week, Digg and Felicity faking dates and being sure that Oliver knew. After the mall, they went for ice cream, dinner and a movie, a walk in the park, a drive-in theater, and an art museum.

 

Digg kept making fun of her date ideas, claiming that she got all of them from the greatest hits of the 80’s teenage angst movies and she told him to shove it or she would make him stand under her window and play the boom box for all to hear.

 

Digg’s mouth snapped shut and held back his comments on her date ideas.

 

She knew that Oliver was tracking her phone (he was horrible at covering his tracks), and decided that they could fake these “dates” or they could actually go out and have a good time. Sometimes Digg even brought Lyla, leaving Felicity as the third wheel.

 

By the time the third week of her plan rolled around, Oliver looked so miserable, she would bet ten bucks that he really wasn’t sleeping all that well. There were suitcases under his eyes, and his temper was shorter than ever, his poor training dummy taking the brunt of his anger and frustration.

 

Felicity decided it was time to move onto Phase Three when Oliver almost broke his training post, figuring it was in everyone’s best interest. Poor Digg was no longer training with Oliver, who had become irritable and erratic, which made a poor sparring partner indeed.

 

Felicity had to protect her fake boyfriend, so she sat Digg down and told him about the next phase.

 

**Phase Three: PDA Makes Everyone Uncomfortable (Or that time when Felicity had to kiss Diggle)**

****  
  


Phase Three was a bit more awkward. Okay, a lot more awkward.

 

Felicity and Diggle had been “dating” for a little over a month and Felicity knew that they needed to take the next step to push Oliver just a bit farther. She just hoped the relationship between Diggle and her would be able to withstand the next step. She also hoped that Oliver had the iron clad control she thought he did.  

 

Oliver left to go meet his mother and sister for lunch, telling Diggle and Felicity that he would be back later. Oliver was spending less and less time in the foundry lately - most likely avoiding Felicity and Digg. He was looking increasingly upset as the days went on and the relationship between Digg and Felicity flourished, or appeared to.

 

Digg and Lyla were still happily coupled, and she was still woefully single and pining for her mopey boss.  

 

Felicity knew Oliver thought that whatever was going on between the two of them was fleeting; a sort of fling that would wear itself out and then everything would return to normal. Then Oliver would finally be able to sleep through the night without flashes of the two of them together.

 

Felicity knew that he had these flashes, because she heard him muttering about “nightmares of Digg” while he polished his bow. Sleep deprivation was not a good look on anyone, especially a highly trained vigilante.

 

If Felicity had more self-preservation, she might be a bit concerned at the prospect of her boss losing his marbles.

 

She didn’t think Oliver realized the depth of his feelings for her until she started this mission. Felicity knew that Oliver didn’t like her with other men, she figured he chalked it up to being a protective guardian or something similar, more brotherly than romantic. But when he saw her touch Digg’s arm, his face would darken, his shoulders would tighten, and the thought that maybe his feelings ran a bit deeper would pass through his mind.

 

It was obvious that he was starting to wonder why this was bothering him so much, his two friends being together should make him happy - not ready to burst.

 

It was about damn time he got with the program, she’d been battling her feelings for a while now, and seeing him with all of the various women in his life was driving her nuts. Revenge is best served hot, she thought happily.

 

So when Felicity mentioned the next Phase to Digg, she knew that Oliver was going to hate it.

 

“Alright, Digg. This is the plan.” They were standing in the foundry on a bright Saturday afternoon, the small bits of sunshine leaking through the high windows and reflecting nicely off the shiny metal tables and equipment.

 

Oliver was due back soon from lunch and she almost felt bad for moving on to the next phase so soon after he dealt with his sister and mother (both of whom were insanely strong willed and curious, which made lunch a painful affair). But she knew that if she didn’t get the next step going, they would have to find another time that he would walk into lair at the perfect time.

 

Usually his schedule was erratic and unpredictable, so when it was definite that he was coming down here, and that there wasn’t crime to fight or drug cartels to dismantle, she had to take advantage.

 

“Felicity, when all of this is over, we are going to have a serious talk about your plotting. It’s getting out of control. Lyla is well versed in interventions, and we will have one if needed.” Digg leveled a look on Felicity and she grinned back.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not out of control.”

 

“Mmmmhmmmm.”

 

She glared and continued, “So, back to the plan. Oliver is due back in,” she checked the clock on the computer, “Fifteen minutes. He’s usually very punctual when avoiding spending time with his family, so he’ll be here for sure.” She clasped her hands together and shuffled her heeled feet. The shoes she was wearing put her level with Digg’s wide shoulders.

 

“You still haven’t told me what this plan is yet, and the longer you wait to share with the class, the more nervous I become.”

 

She heaved a sigh and said, “You know when you’re walking around and you see a couple macking on the sidewalk, and you think to yourself, ‘Wow, that makes me really uncomfortable’?”

 

Digg slid his eyes shut and his head dropped, “Yes, Felicity, I do.”

 

“Phase Three is called PDA makes everyone really uncomfortable.”

 

“Yes, Felicity, it does.”

 

“So in about,” she looked at the clock again, “twelve minutes, I’m going to need you to lay one on me.”

 

“Of course you do.” He sighed again, and looked back up at her, “Lyla is going to hate me. Why are you so bent on ruining my relationship?”

 

“If it makes her feel any better, it isn’t a real kiss, and it’ll be supremely awkward. And I know awkward - have you met me? I’ve had my share of awkward kisses. Ralph Tulza in middle school was the worst kisser of my entire life, he was all tongue and teeth - and it was a closed mouth kiss, at least on my part. It was like being kissed by an overzealous puppy with glandular issues. I swear, I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my life. Except for right now.” She shuffled her feet again, eyes darting around the lair, watching the small particles of dust float through the light beams.

 

“Damn sexual politics; war was simpler than this. If anyone made me uncomfortable I would just threaten them with my gun or shoot them. Are you sure you can’t just give this up now and tell him how you feel? The poor bastard looks about ready to blow. Hell, _I’m_ ready to blow.”

 

Felicity sighed, “Digg, we are halfway there, and I swear, this is the only time you’ll have to put your lips on me in a non-platonic way. Unless you have some feelings we need to address…?”

 

“Hell no. Sorry Felicity, but you’re not my type.”

 

She breathed a sigh of relief, “Bless. I don’t think I could handle that conversation right now.”

 

Digg gave a noise of agreement, “How are we doing this?”

 

“Okay, I have it all planned out.” Felicity took her hands and mussed her hair, pulling her clothes around slightly to give them the appearance of a fresh make out session, she did the same to Digg, ignoring the unhappy look on his face as she pinched his cheeks for a bit of color.

 

“Of course you do.”

 

She ignored him and continued, “I’m going to put my arms around your neck,” she moved them into position, ensuring that Oliver saw them when he stepped off the last stair, “like so. And you’ll put your hands on my waist,” he followed her instruction, “like that. Now, when he comes down, just smack one on me.”

 

Digg flinched, “If my girl leaves me because of you and your hormones, I’m suing.”

 

“Shush you, she won’t leave you. You told her about all of this, right?”

 

“Yes, how could I not? You were on the dates with us.”

 

“I was, and she threw popcorn at me when I made a crack about our ‘relationship’,” Felicity made air quotations behind his head, “It was really rude.”

 

“Man, I love her.”

 

Felicity chuckled, “She is pretty great.”

 

“Damn straight, she is.”

 

They heard the door to the basement click open, and Oliver’s feet hit the stairs, “Quick!” she hissed, and pulled his face toward hers.

 

Digg let out a miserable noise and pressed his lips to the corner of her own.

 

If she thought her kiss in middle school was awkward, it had absolutely nothing on this kiss. While they had exchanged platonic cheek pecks and forehead kissed, they’d never ventured so close to each other’s lips; Felicity wished she had kept it that way. They had no chemistry, and that made any attempt for something more than a solid friendship almost painful.

 

His lips were warm and smooth, but stiff and unhappy, and Felicity was sure hers were about the same. They both moved the wrong way during the kiss, and Felicity had the fleeting thought that if Oliver wasn’t so out of it, he would see straight through them. The kiss was quick, thank god, and they broke apart when they heard Oliver’s feet falter on the last step, his sturdy boots slipping slightly on the stair in shock.

 

She forced a breathless tone into her words and said, “Oliver! Sorry about that. How was lunch?” Felicity moved her hand to her mussed hair and started fixing it, tucking her shirt back into her skirt properly.

 

He didn’t answer, but remained frozen at the bottom of the stairs, his face stuck in an expression of complete disbelief. His broad shoulders were taught and his body was tensed as though for flight. Oliver’s hand remained clutched tightly on the banister, and his other fist clenched.

 

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” Digg’s voice spoke up from behind her, having moved away from Oliver. Probably unconsciously, lest he attack.

 

Oliver remained silent for a few more moments, and Felicity exchanged a look with Digg. Maybe she _had_ given him an aneurysm. That would be a damn shame.

 

When he made a sort of choked whimper, Felicity turned to look at him inching closer to Oliver, her hand outstretched in a sort of pacifying gesture. She stopped a couple feet away from Oliver, “Seriously, Oliver, breathe.”

 

His shocked blue eyes met hers for a moment, and she saw a fleeting look of anguish pass through them before he drew up his mask, figuratively speaking. “I’m just going to go meet my family for lunch,” she crinkled her eyebrows and opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that he just got done with lunch. But he turned and dashed up the stairs before she could speak, taking them three at a time before slamming the door shut behind him.

 

“Well,” Digg intoned from behind her, “I think it’s safe to say you’ve killed the man. Nice going, Smoak. You know, you’re not supposed to kill the Queen first, right?”

 

“This isn’t chess, Digg, and I didn’t kill him. But I think I managed to destroy the few brain cells that weren’t beaten out of his head. I hope he isn’t slashing your tires right now.”

 

“Damnit, Smoak. This is why you don’t mess with a man’s emotions.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him, “And I thought Oliver was dramatic.”

 

“Your plotting is going to doom us all.”

 

“Remind me to call Oliver a drama Queen when I see him.” Felicity perked up, “I’m going to add it to my list of Queen puns!” She rushed over to her computer and began typing.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“What? A girl’s gotta be prepared.”

 

“I need a new job.”

 

**Phase Four: Can You Fix My Sink? (Or that time when Felicity watched too much porn and doesn't know how to ask someone up to her apartment)**

****  
  


Felicity Smoak is not the smoothest person.

 

She can be suave when the timing is just right and all of the stars align, then she has that one shining moment of pure one-liner perfection. The one liner that makes angels weep and the stars sing.

 

However, this is a very rare occurrence; it’s happened exactly twice in her lifetime.

 

Felicity is good at quick snappy comebacks, she can talk circles around people until they are dizzy and begging her to stop. She can give you a sarcastic response and a beautifully eloquent speech, but she can’t make subtle innuendos to save her life.

 

Just look at her track record with Oliver. Since joining Team Arrow, she’s made a righteous ass out of herself at least twice a day. Digg and Oliver have been kind enough not to mention it, and have learnt to just ignore her flaming face, tight lips, and move the conversation past the moment.

 

So she should have known that Phase Four would be interesting. Simply because she didn’t know how to invite people back to her apartment without embarrassing everyone involved.

 

Felicity was amazed that she’d ever been laid, but to be honest, most guys just shake off the shock of her words and focus on the getting back to her place part of the sentence. So she’s never been super concerned at her lack of social grace.

 

Digg was sitting next to her at the computers, his shoulder bumping hers as they talked quietly. Their conversation was mostly about the new network she was setting up, but the look on Oliver’s face as he glanced over at them every now and then made her think that he thought they were talking about something more personal.

 

It didn’t help that Digg was funny and kept cracking jokes, making her laugh and lean her head closer to his. Every time she chuckled at a joke, Oliver’s face tightened, his nostrils would flare, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

 

She could just imagine his internal monologue going: “ _Why is she laughing? He’s not that funny. I’m funny. MAN PAIN. Angstangstangst_.”

 

Oliver had moved past awkward and sad, and was now boarding on pissed and confused. He still hadn’t made a move to talk to Diggle about how he was feeling or what the deal was with Digg and Felicity, and Felicity was impressed at the lengths to which he would go to avoid talking about an uncomfortable truth. Or half-truth in this case.

 

Though, she wasn’t all that surprised he didn’t want to talk about his feelings.

 

As their night in the lair drew to a close, Felicity felt a small flutter of nerves in her stomach. While the other Phases were risky, this one was a definite game changer. The plan was to get Diggle back to her place and make it seem like their relationship was progressing to the next level.

 

She hoped Oliver would have said something by now. Maybe he will after she invites Digg back to her place. In all her planning and plotting, Felicity didn’t count on his power of denial and ability to avoid confrontation and uncomfortable topics. Which is why Digg and Felicity decided to have this conversation within hearing range of their boss, hoping that he would get the hint and do something besides brood. In the dark. Alone.

 

Felicity stood up and stretched her arms above her head, noting with pleasure that Oliver was watching her move, his eyes intense and that unhappy look crossing his features once more.

 

“So, Digg,” she started, turning to face her partner in crime and shifting closer, “What are you doing tonight?” Felicity wasn’t proud of it, but she might have twirled her hair.

 

Digg looked up from where he was polishing his gun and raised his eyebrow, “Nothing, ‘Flis, why?”

 

She cleared her throat and moved closer to Digg, noticing the way Oliver’s hand clenched slightly on the book he was holding. He hadn’t turned a page in half an hour because he spent most of the night looking her rather than his book on, she glanced over, _Mating Habits of the Southern Alpaca_. Well, she wouldn’t want to read that either.

 

“Well, my sink isn’t working properly, and I was wondering if you would come over tonight and help me fix it.” She wiggled her eyebrows and stifled a laugh as Digg’s eyes shot wide.

 

“Uh, sure. That’s not a problem. I would love to...help you fix your sink,” he said slowly, standing up and moving closer to her.

 

“Thank you!” Felicity made her voice breathy once more, “It’s been a long time since anyone has helped me with some handy work.”

 

Digg just gave her a look (one that said _you’re insane - we are so having an intervention_ to her), “It would be my pleasure.”

 

She made a happy noise and turned around to grab her bag and snuck another look at Oliver, who was gripping the pages of his Alpaca Mating book tightly. His face was blank but his body was tense and too still.  

 

Felicity ignored his body language and waved a cheerful good-bye, “We’ll see you later, Oliver. Have a good night,” in a stage whisper she leaned closer to Digg, “I know we will.”

 

As they walked up the stairs, she heard the book rip, and gave Digg a smile.

 

Once they were sitting in her car, she turned to Digg, “How was I? Be honest.”

 

He groaned and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, “Why didn’t you just ask me for a ride home? The whole sink thing was straight out of a porno.”

 

“I know, that’s where I got it from. In case you’ve failed to notice, I’m not the smoothest person to grace this planet. There was research to be done.”

 

Digg looked at her incredulously, “Research? You watched porn for _research_? Are you kidding me?”

 

“They were surprisingly educational.”

 

He just shook his head and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road, “I don’t even know what to do with you.”

 

“That was also in a porno.”

 

Digg sighed and rubbed his forehead, “Lord help me.”

 

“That one was -” he cut her off.

 

“If you tell me that one was in a porno too, I am fake breaking up with you right now.”

 

She moped in her seat, “Fine. Be that way.”

 

“So what’s the next step in your genius plan?” He glanced at her, “I don’t actually have to sleep with you, right? I think Lyla would murder both of us. Hell, _I_  would murder us.”

 

Felicity scoffed, “No, you don’t have to sleep with me. The only reason I was that forward was because Oliver needs to do something other than glower at us across the basement, sit in the dark by himself, and rip his books in half. Speaking of which, good job team!” She triumphantly raised her hand for a high-five, which Digg hesitantly returned. “If all goes to plan, he will do something tonight to stop us from taking that next step. It’s hard to believe that he’s put up with almost two months of this. He’s more resilient than I thought.”

 

Digg nodded, “The poor bastard.”

 

The car was silent for a moment before she spoke up, “While you’re here, would you mind _actually_ checking out my sink?”

 

“Seriously?” When she nodded at him, he continued, “Yeah, I’ll check it out. No reenacting pornos on me, okay? I can only handle so much ridiculousness in one night, and I’m about at my threshold,” grumbling under his breath, he added, “I’ve been at my threshold for two months.”

 

Felicity shook her finger at him, “This is for the greater good of my love life, Digg.”

 

“I know, I know. Next time, I’m taking you two in for couples’ counseling.”

 

She scoffed at him, “Puh-lease.”

 

It was dark by the time they reached Felicity’s apartment, the neighborhood lit by the ambient light of the street lamps as Digg pulled over to the curb and switched off the car. He turned to look at her, resting his arm on the top of the steering wheel, “I just don’t know why you think Oliver is going to show up tonight. I don’t think he will.”

 

Felicity raised an eyebrow and pushed her glasses up slightly, “Shall we bet a month’s worth of Big Belly Burger?”

 

“You’re on, blondie. Now, let’s go fix your sink - not a euphemism.”

 

She smiled at him and got out of the car, the crisp smell of spring on the night air lifting her spirits higher. It was decently warm outside, the sidewalk still holding some residual heat from the afternoon sun. Felicity waved Digg over to the door and pulled out her keys.

 

She lived in a decently good part of town, her apartment was nestled cozily in a line of three story buildings that stretched down the block. All brick and mortar, it had a very classic, clean feeling. Felicity had lived here since she moved to Starling City almost six years ago and she’s never considered moving.

 

Opening the lobby door for Digg, who had pulled tools out of his trunk, she ushered him inside and closed the door behind them. Her apartment was on the third floor of the complex, and as she shut the door and locked it behind her, she pointed Digg up the stairs. “I’m on the top.”

 

“ Mmmhmm.”

 

“Hush.”

 

The walk up to her apartment was nice. Though she didn’t have an elevator, the stairs themselves weren’t too steep (and thankfully didn’t creak), and she found herself enjoying the walk up most days. Except when she wore those god-awful shoes that made mincemeat out of her feet.

 

When they reached her apartment, she unlocked the numerous locks Oliver made her install and pushed the door open. “Welcome to my humble abode. What you see is what you get.”

 

Digg laughed at her and moved inside, allowing her to follow and lock the outrageous amounts of deadbolts and chain locks. Once she finished, she kicked off her shoes and shrugged out of her jacket.

 

“You can leave your shoes on or take them off; I’m not too particular when it comes to carpet care.” Felicity waved in the general direction of Digg’s feet.

 

He nodded and toed his shoes off, leaving him in (surprisingly) a pair of patterned socks, “Donald Duck? Really?”

 

“Don’t make fun, Felicity. Lyla got me these.”

 

She made cooing noises at him as he set down the tool box and took off his jacket.

 

“Not to risk sounding too porn-y,” she started, moving farther into her apartment and turning to face him, “But do you want a tour?”

 

“You’re not allowed to watch any more porn, Felicity; I’m cutting you off. But yes, I would love a tour.”

 

Laughing, she gestured for him to follow her.

 

The front door opened into a small foyer, complete with front closet, shoe rack, and a bowl for her keys. Two doors opened off the entryway, the one on her right lead to her kitchen, and the doorway directly in front of the front door lead to her living room.

 

The kitchen was as spacious as an apartment kitchen could be. It had shiny new appliances, with dark countertops and cabinets that ran parallel to each other, moving to a bay area that overlooked the park at the back of her apartment. The bay area had a small kitchen table tucked in front of it, cushions on the window seat and chairs lining the other sides. The kitchen was styled in a 50’s color scheme, with clocks and patterned hand towels. There was a small bar complete with stools that sat perpendicular to the living room, giving the large space some structure.

 

The living room was small but cozy, taken up by her large couch, filled to the brim with pillows and soft blankets. The back of the couch ran along the same line as the hallway that sat behind it. The wall opposite was covered by a TV so large, it contested her bed. A dark wood coffee table sat in front of her couch, which had side tables on either end. Her plush reading chair sat next to the large window on the far wall, the table next to it piled high with books. The walls were covered in pictures of her friends and family and a few movie posters. Books were stuffed into the built in bookshelf, and a desk was tucked into the corner of the room.

 

A small hallway passed from her kitchen behind her living room and lead to another window at the end of the hall and the large french doors on her right that had been the selling point of the apartment. The doors opened into her bedroom, by far her favorite room. A Queen (ha!) sized bed sat in the middle of the room facing the double doors, filled with pillows and covered in a pleasant salmon colored duvet. The floor was taken up with a plush rug that she loved sinking her toes into. Her dresser was pushed against one wall and another bookshelf bursting with texts and tech sat next to it. They were on the same wall as her bathroom door, which was opposite the wall of windows.

 

One large bay window was nestled into the wall, the other leading to her fire escape. Both were covered in curtains and locked at all times. Oliver was rubbing off on her, and not in the good way.

 

Her bathroom, the only bathroom in the whole apartment, was generous. A large tub was pushed against the wall to the left of the door, a skylight sitting in the middle of the ceiling, allowing for plenty of natural light to flood the room. The toilet was connected in a small room to the right of the doorway, and the sinks (two, because she’s swanky like that) sat on the wall facing her room.

 

The whole apartment was painted in warm soothing colors and accented with countless personal touches. She was very proud of her apartment, and took any chance she could to show it off.

 

As Felicity showed Digg around, he gave an appreciative whistle. “This place is really nice!”

 

“I know, right?”

 

They made their way back to the kitchen, Felicity telling him about the sink problems, and Digg nodding along while she talked.

 

While Digg crawled under the sink, Felicity made them something to drink (tea for Digg and wine for her, because she deserved it), and listened to him talk about Lyla and their relationship.

 

The sink itself didn’t take long to fix, something about a leaky pipe or an old socket or something. She honestly wasn’t paying that close attention to Digg’s explanation.

 

Felicity was worried she over-estimated Oliver’s attraction to her. It was the first time in their entire plan that she had doubt about the outcome. Yes, he looked miserable and about ready to commit multiple homicides and/or set something on fire. Yes, he was acting different and wildly out of character. And yes, he did react to Felicity and Digg being a couple.

 

But he hadn’t said anything, he hadn’t even made a move to talk to her about the relationship in all the moments that they had been alone together. He had plenty of chances to broach the subject without Diggle being around, but had skirted around the topic in true Oliver Queen style.

 

She worried his self-denial ran deeper than she thought. Or his conviction that he couldn’t be with someone that he cared about was coloring his judgement, allowing the opportunity to be in her life as more than her boss and friend to slip by him.

 

Felicity fingered her wine glass, tilting it to catch the light and sighed. She really didn’t want to have put the whole team through this for nothing but a rejection.

 

“Felicity,” Digg’s voice cut through her musings, his face closer than it had been when she tuned out. He was now less than two feet away, his hands on her shoulders and his eyes slightly concerned. “Let me take this,” he plucked her wine glass out of her hand and set it on the counter she was leaning against, “and you go change out of your work clothes. I’ll stay for a while and watch a movie or something. Okay?”

 

She nodded and pushed off the counter, sliding around him and down her hallway. “Thanks, Digg. I’ll be right back.”

 

“Fine, but I get to pick the movie.”

 

“We’ll talk.”

 

Felicity entered her bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. Pushing her doubts about Oliver to the back of her mind, she unzipped her skirt and pushed it down her legs, pulling her blouse off, and throwing both into her hamper. She began rummaging through her drawers, looking for acceptable pajama wear (that wasn’t a beat up old shirt riddled with holes and a pair of boxer shorts), but when she was unable to come up with anything suitable, she settled for her nicest hole-ridden shirt.

 

She didn’t know why she bothered, Felicity thought bitterly, it’s not like the one guy she actually wants to sleep with is going to show up.

 

Felicity sighed and pulled some large wool socks over her feet, attempting to stave off the spring chill. After the socks were on, she tied her hair more securely up on the top of her head, pulling it into a messy bun and started the trek to her bathroom to remove her make-up.

 

Digg wouldn’t care what she looked like; he had just spent two hours talking to her about the girl he was head over heels for. She was happy for him, she really was. Felicity was just a bit salty over the fact that the object of her desires cared no more for her than he did for Digg. Oliver was probably just butt-hurt over the whole workplace romance and the fact that they didn’t ask his permission, or something like that.

 

Felicity didn’t want to spend too long analyzing the innermost workings of Oliver Queen’s mind; she imagined it was a scary place.

 

Stepping into her bathroom, she fell into her nightly routine with the exception of brushing her teeth, because she felt that more wine was in her future. While she stood over the sink, makeup remover working overtime to get the junk off her face, she heard a weird tapping noise. She paused then brushed it off as being the furnace and kept on chipping away at her make-up.

 

When the noise sounded again, she faltered, the cotton pad she was holding falling to the side as she placed her glasses back on and looked into the mirror. Then she let out a blood curdling scream.

 

There was a dark figure standing in the frame of her window, the mostly closed curtains hiding any identifying features. She heard pounding footsteps and then Digg was in her room, gun drawn and defensive mode on. He was able to figure out where her source of terror was and immediately moved to put himself between Felicity and the window where the silhouette stood.

 

“Felicity!” He called, moving with his back to her, gun aimed at the window, “Are you alright?”

 

“Digg! I’m okay, it’s okay.” She let out a shuddering breath and moved closer to Digg, her hands finding his shoulders and her face peering over his shoulder, “Who do you think it is?”

 

Digg lowered his gun slightly and sighed out, “I think I have an idea.” When he made to move forward, she almost pulled him back, thinking about protecting him from whatever was sitting outside her window. She may not have the best fighting moves, but she had a brain (a damn good one). And it was telling her that approaching the figure was a Bad Idea (caps intended) and should be avoided if one was not expecting company on their fire escape that evening.

 

But she didn’t say anything to Digg, who had survived war without her brain, and should be trusted to follow his own instincts without her paranoia sneaking in.

 

And so she watched as Digg moved with powerful grace across the room, gun still held at the ready, though his finger was off the trigger. She held her breath as she watched him push the edge of the curtain aside with his gun.

 

As Felicity saw a look of recognition flit over his face, she looked at the figure and felt tendrils of rage sprout within her.  

 

“Oliver Jonas Queen! You massive _asshole_!” Felicity snarled at the him and stomped over to the window, throwing the curtains aside and the locks open, ignoring the way Oliver’s eyes looked sad and broken, because she would not feel pity for a man who just scared ten years off her life. Felicity ignored his flinch as she threw the window open, shuddering at the chill that came in. “I should push you off the goddamn fire escape, you horrendous _dick_.”

 

Digg let out a breath and holstered his gun, “I owe you a month of Big Belly. Which will be paid in full at another date because right now, I’m going to leave. This,” he waved at the two of them, “is not my business.” And he pressed a kiss to Felicity’s cheek, gave a salute to Oliver and left the room, the sound of the front door closing shortly after.

 

Felicity turned to Oliver, murder in her eyes, and she seriously considered bodily pushing him off the fire escape. “I don’t care how sneaky or thoughtful or whatever the _hell_ you think you were being, it is _not okay_ to hide out on a girls’ fire escape!” She smacked his shoulder, hard. “I was _changing_. Not that I care if you see me naked, but I would like to know when someone is looking! It is fucking _polite_ to announce yourself before someone begins taking their clothes off. Unless,” she paused, placing a finger on her chin, “you got here after I changed. In which case, that whole rant went from a ‘did happen’ to a ‘could have happened’, and should be regarded as such.”

 

“I was here when you changed.”

 

“I am going to burn your hood. And then I’m going to tell your mother.”

 

Oliver looked pained, “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He hung his head and continued, “I closed my eyes when you started changing; I thought it best to wait until you were done.”

 

She blinked, “Oh, well, in that case, please do come in.” Felicity stepped aside and let Oliver climb quietly through the window, shutting and locking it behind him. Once he was standing in her bedroom (she would not think about that right now - get your head in the game, Smoak), she said as offhandedly as she could, “Why are you here?”

 

“You, uh, left your car at the club. So I brought it over,” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and Felicity loved every second of it, “I thought Digg might give me a ride back. I didn’t count on him leaving when I came over, though.” She didn’t believe that for a second. Oliver knew that Digg would vacate the premises if needed.

 

“Uh huh.” She didn’t dare say more because she would give it all away and she was really enjoying watching him squirm. “And the fact that Digg and I had plans tonight was of no consequence?” A small flush crept up his face and he grimaced.

 

“So, uh, did he,” Oliver seemed to pull all of his courage to the surface to utter the next words, and even then they sounded pained, “fix your sink?”

 

Felicity decided that she would have a little more fun with this, and began inching closer to Oliver, who stood just inside her window, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket and the other still rubbing his neck. She had to fight off a laugh at how horribly uncomfortable he looked right now. Oliver didn’t seem to notice that she was less than a foot away when she answered, keeping her voice sultry. “Oh yeah, he fixed it real good. Cleaned those pipes and tightened the joints,” she leaned even closer. Placing her hands on his chest, she went to her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, “he even used a _filter_.”

 

Oliver closed his eyes in anguish, seeming not to understand that she was completely messing with him. So she stepped back slightly, still keeping the distance to a minimum and said, “Does that bother you?”

 

Oliver heaved a sigh, “No! No. Of course not. You two are my friends, and I am happy that you’re happy,” the words sounded rehearsed and false to her ears. She could seriously not be happier right now. “It’s just that - well, workplace romances - I’m just worried that - you’re both important - _just fuck it_.”

 

His head snapped up and his eyes met hers for the first time that night, and the look in them took her breath away. “I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it. Felicity, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t even fight crime! I was beat up by a _street thug_ yesterday! That hasn’t happened in 7 years.” His voice turned slightly whining, “and I think my beard is falling out!” Oliver tugged lightly at the hairs and she had to squash down the laughter that almost came out when he saw the small bits of hair in his hand and thrust them towards her face. “Do you see this? You can’t date Diggle, I’m sorry, but I’m falling apart. Digg is the best man I know, but I can’t handle seeing the two of you together. I’m not normally so possessive,” at her snort he amended, “over people I don’t have any right to be possessive over. But it is literally driving me crazy and I can’t do it anymore.”

 

Felicity waited a moment and then spoke, “It’s about damn time you pulled your head out of your ass.”

 

Oliver almost stopped breathing, “ _What_?”

 

“You heard me, Oliver, it’s about time you got with the program.” She stepped closer, and this time, Oliver noticed. His head tilted to the side and his face crunched slightly in confusion - it was adorable. Once they were but inches apart, she stopped moving and turned her face up to his.

 

“Got...with the program?” He asked, his voice low and intense, small puffs of air were hitting her face and she smiled.

 

“Yup,” she let the word go with a soft pop, “Digg and I were never together. He really was just fixing my sink.”

 

The confusion on his face intensified and he looked even more distressed, “What?”

 

Felicity moved her hand to his chest, fingers pushing the soft white cotton across scar tissue, and said again, “Digg and I were never dating, not really. The only reason he was here tonight was to fix my sink - literally. Well, that and to make you jealous. We had a plan, you see.”

 

Oliver looked down at her, mouth slightly agape.

 

“For the past three years, Oliver Queen, I’ve wanted to get in your leather pants and do horribly dirty things to you.” She paused, “I need to stop watching porn; it’s getting really bad. I’m pretty sure I got that line from Naughty Biker Chicks 9 - or was it 7. I don’t know, they all kind of blend together at one point. There’s only so many original porn plot lines, you know?” Felicity shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, the point is that I want you, and I had to go about it in a really inconvenient and passive aggressive way. Which I am sorry for, by the way. I just wasn’t sure if you felt that way about me, and I didn’t want to be rejected again.”

 

Oliver looked blind-sided. It was a lot of information to be getting all at once - especially if he’s been getting no sleep. “Rejected? Again? What are you talking about?” With his usual grace, he blew past the awkward porn chatter.

 

“Russia, crazed-vengeance-obsessed-corporate-espionage-committing-ex-mistress ringing any bells? You told me that you couldn’t be with someone you really cared about, which I respected, but at the same time, it hurt. And in a way, I was rejected. You deemed me too fragile, too delicate to live in your world and fight your fights, which physically I may not be able to do, but mentally, I am in top shape. I am your girl, Oliver, and I want nothing more than for you to see it too.”

 

He exhaled and moved his hand from his neck and onto her shoulder, fingers rubbing small circles in her worn shirt. “Felicity, you’ve kept up with this world better than I have, and you’ll never be too fragile. I was - and still am - worried about bringing my problems and baggage down around your head, as strong as that head may be.” His other hand moved to rub over the tip of her ear, eyes boring deep into hers. “I’m sorry that you felt rejected; that wasn’t my intention. You’ll always be my girl, Felicity, don’t you ever forget that.”

 

Felicity hummed happily and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth and solidity that is Oliver. She would accept his explanation - for now. Her fingers were still buried in his shirt, twisted in the worn material where she could feel his heart beating strongly. When she felt his breath move closer to her face, she slid her eyes open and looked up at him, watching as he pressed a slow kiss to her forehead. “Felicity Smoak, you really are remarkable.”

 

“And don’t you forget it.”

 

“I don’t think you’d let me.”

 

“I’m glad you realize who wears the pants in this relationship, Mr. Queen.”

 

He chuckled and pressed his lips to her cheek, his scruff dragging lightly over her skin, before he moved and pressed his lips to her nose, “I never thought it was any other way.” Oliver kissed her other cheek, moving his lips down and pressing them sweetly on hers.

 

Their kiss was calm and slow, full of the sentiments that they both hadn’t fully addressed, sentiments that they both weren’t quite ready to bring out into the open. But for now, this kiss was enough, holding each other in the warm, safe embrace bathed in the low light was all they needed.

 

Oliver broke the kiss and murmured, “I would take this farther, but I have to say, I haven’t had a good nights sleep in almost two months, thanks to _someone_ and her plotting. Could we bookmark this and revisit it in the morning when both parties are totally alert?”

 

Felicity smiled and nodded, clenching her hand into a fist and dragging Oliver toward her bed by his shirt, “We can talk about it tomorrow while we make waffles.”

 

Oliver hummed in agreement, toeing his shoes off and shucking his jacket. He pulled the covers back, flopped on her mattress, and groaned, “This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept on.”

 

“You’re just sleep deprived.” She retorted, climbing in next to him and flipping the light off, turning her head to look at him in the dark.

 

“I think you’re wrong. This is the most comfortable bed ever. Do you know why?” His face turned toward her, his gaze finding hers in the light from the street lamps below.

 

“Because you’re sleep deprived? Or - wait, I got it: you’re sleep deprived!” Felicity snapped her fingers and made an ‘ah-ha!’ noise.

 

He scoffed and flicked her nose, “It’s because you’re with me.”

 

She awed, “Who knew you were such a sap.”

 

Oliver grinned, “It’s my secret. Well, one of my secrets.”

 

She chuckled and then laughed harder, “Hey, Oliver, you wanna know something funny?”

 

He nodded.

 

“There’s a Queen on my Queen.”

 

“That’s not the best Queen pun you have. I’ve seen the list.”

 

Felicity gave a gasp of mock outrage, “Mr. Queen, excuse you. Were you snooping through my computers? First the window, then the computers. Your reign of terror knows no bounds. Get it? _Reign_? Because you’re a Queen?”

 

“No - you left the list up. All your fault.” He huffed a fake laugh, “Ha ha, very funny. I’ve heard that one before; you’ll have to do better than that. On that note, I am going to veto Dancing Queen - because ABBA is outdated and I don’t dance.”

 

“I have the strong urge to sing _Safety Dance_  at you right now.”

 

“For the love of god, please don’t sing.”

 

“ _‘Cause your friends don't dance and if they don't dance, well, they're no friends of mine_!” She sang into the darkness, moving her shoulders in time with the music.

 

Oliver groaned and rolled to face Felicity, pinning her shoulders down with one muscular arm and pressing his lips to her ear, “If you keep singing, I’m going to put chili powder in your waffles instead of cinnamon, and you won’t know until it’s too late.”

 

“You dare defile waffle time?”

 

“You sang _Safety Dance_ ; you brought it upon yourself, Ms. Smoak.”

 

“I suppose it’s fair,” she sighed into the darkness and cuddled closer to Oliver, eyelids growing heavy under the weight of her contentment. Felicity turned and pressed a kiss to his forehead, closing her eyes and letting herself drift off, the warmth from Oliver seeping into her bones.

 

Oliver grumbled nonsensical words into her neck, his body curling around her as he pulled her closer. His head found the crook of her neck and his breathing evened out. Felicity smiled contentedly and knew that everything was going according to plan.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And finished! Woohoo! I may write more for this, but as of right now, it exists as a one shot. I hope you enjoyed it! Lord knows I have. 
> 
> Any comments/critique/advice is welcome. <3


End file.
